All Alone
by DietzZ
Summary: Robb's new bride crumbles under the pressure of trying to fill the whole that Talisa left in his heart and seeks out a dead women for help. Just a one-shot but I will continue if there's enough interest.


**Just an idea that I've been toying with. No Red Wedding because I refuse to acknowledge it. Robb and Talisa have a girl, Aryanna, but she dies later. Robb then takes a Southern girl as Queen to help cement peace between the two nations.** **Just some thoughts on the time she would have in Winterfell.**

It was a terrible idea. I knew that. They hold told me not to go down here. It was dangerous and dark. I could get lost and starve to death down there.

Truthfully, it was hard to first get the nerve to venture into the crypts. But the more I thought about it, I obviously I didn't care. I didn't care about anything. I knew that I wanted to do this, so getting lost and wasting away down there wasn't really a threat. If anything I would take some alone time gladly. Even if that included starving to death in solitude.

It had been hard to ditch Meg and Josephine at the Sept, but I had managed.

It was ominously dark, and damp. It smelled musty and old. There was an erie silence in the black. I was guided only by the candle I brought with me, using its dim light to navigate the statue of men all staring at me with the same look. Like I didn't belong here. It was hot in the crypts, but when I passed a particularly menacing statue I felt a chill roll all the way down my spine, and I shuddered.

I licked my lips nervously and kept going. I swear every Stark was buried down here from Bran the Builder. Not really, since he's just myth, but as my feet grew tired from walking, I began to wonder if that was an actual possibility. Who knows who could even be down here. There was so many statues that maybe they just forgot Bran the Builders burying place among the hundreds. It sounded ridiculous but as I walked the many isles, I decided to not yet debunk the theory.

My heart stopped when I saw her. Well, not her. Her statue. Is that what she actually looked like? In rows and rows of men, there she stood proud and beautiful. Almost like a beautiful Arya. Even in her stone form, I quaked.

As soon as I reached her, I dropped to my knees like I was in the Sept. I just stared at her. My heart was pounding and my throat was feeling tight. I've been crying for so many days, I wonder when I would ever stop. Clearly it wouldn't be right now. I wasn't sure what it was about Lyanna Stark that made me so emotional, but in seconds giant tears rolled down my face. At first it was silent, but then began the sobs.

One wracked me so hard that I had to lean over, my hands firmly planted in the rough, dirty ground. It was almost like I was bowing down to her, throwing myself on the ground before her. I bet people did that to her when she was alive too.

"How?" I cried.

I don't know who I was talking to. I was completely and utterly alone down here. I was alone up there too. That realization made me cry even more.  
>"Robert Baratheon loved you. Rhaegar Targaryen coveted you enough he stole you from your home. They started a war for for you."<p>

My heart broke with each word. I tried to calm myself down. I was shouting at a dead girl. Not even a dead girl, a statue of a dead girl. What does that say about me. How pathetic I've become. How far I've fallen.

"I can't even get my husband to look at me."

That was only a whisper. I felt disgusting, finally saying everything out loud. They say that when you let things out you'll feel better. I don't know who made up that horse shit, but none of it was true. My heart broke at my words, like I was listening to someone else admit this terrible defeat.

"He wont even touch me."

I could barley choke the words out. I was sobbing so much my chest looked as if it was seizing. My words got lost in my cries and came out stuttered and jumbled, but they hurt just the same. They hung in the air over me just the same. They shattered my heart just the same.

"You can have men pick up weapons to defend you, and I can't even get my own husband to touch me."

Defeated.

That's what I was. Completely defeated. I had lost. I lost to Talisa Maegyr. A dead women. How could I lose to a dead women?

Lyanna Stark was dead.

I finally understood what Cersei had meant. Cersei had lost to Lyanna. She could never compete.

I think mine was worse. Robb and Talisa were married. They had a child. A beautiful child. Then she died. It wasn't just infatuation, Robb loved her. He had years with her. Cersei couldn't erase the hopes in Roberts mind. How could I ever even try to erase the memories Robb and Talisa must have accumulated?

If Cersei couldn't do it in almost manageable circumstances, there was no way I could even try to do this. Say what you want about Cersei Baratheon, but she was magically skilled in getting her way. I was nothing even close to a shadow of the former Queen. There just wasn't a way for me to take on an even harder task. I had known it this whole time, but down here in the crypts, the resting place of my husbands dead family, I knew I would never belong. Not even in this graveyard. That was a sobering fact in this harsh reality.

"Cersei said that if I was to have happiness here, I would need to have a child."

My words were coming out smoother now. Now that I took a moment to just muse on my situation in muted sadness instead of hysteria. But as soon as it had gone, it came barreling back, rearing an ugly head.

"How am I suppose to do that?!" I screamed.

It was a real scream. I wasn't sobbing anymore. I was shrieking out it anger.

"I try and try and try and TRY!"

I couldn't stop. I knew I was throwing a tantrum fit for the little Princess but I couldn't stop. It felt like I had no control down here.

Then suddenly, it was like all the energy had left my body. I sagged down, into my kneeling position, my arms laying limp at my side. It was work even trying to lift my chest to breathe. I had given up. This was it. This was my life. I was condemned to live here in the castle all on my own in solitude. In hatred and loneliness.

"I think I can understand why Cersei turned to her brother." I barley whispered.

Even saying it out loud felt odd. Admitting there was cause to such a treacherous, vile act. I shuttered at the thought of lying with my brother. Even a cousin made me shudder. But the act of infidelity felt like a real possibility. Being so alone, I think if anyone paid me attention, gave me the slightest of hope, I would take it.

Scratch that - I would snatch it up like a greedy little shit. I would take it and I would leave. I would run from here, as fast as I could. I would go anywhere. I would even go to Last Hearth with Smalljon Umber and his whoring ways. I would be just like Cersei then. Smalljon did remind me of the late King Robert. I would take a ship from White Harbor, and go to Kings Landing and face Margaery and Cersei. Or just back to Highgarden and face my family and their disappointment. Maybe even Oldtown, and marry a Hightower boy, then at least in my loneliness, I could stare out at the glistening sea. Maybe I could just steal a ship and sail all the way to Essos, the free cities, to freedom where nobody knew my name. All of it sounded better then staying here alone.

I remember what Cersei said. Children were her saving grace. Her children brought her happiness. But that came back to our problem.

"Please." I gasped, inching closer to Lyanna Stark's statue. "Please. Get him to lay with me."

I didn't take the time to think about how crazy I was right now. Begging the statue of my husbands aunt for sex.

"Please let me have a child, just one -"

The words caught in my mouth.

Not just one. He would only stop if we had a son. A son he would groom to be King. He would keep it with him all the time, teaching him to great and noble and honorable. Either on purpose or inadvertently, Robb would take my son from me.

Could I bare the joy a son would bring me, only to have my husband rip it away from me.

Cersei had managed, but Robb was not Robert. Robb would care for his son. Maybe even love his son. Robb would look past that it was my child and cherish him. And I would be alone.

"A daughter."

That's what I needed. I needed a girl. Not Robb's daughter. Aryanna was a sweet little girl but she would never love me. Never love me enough. I could never be her mother. Robb already had a pretty little Princess, he could leave mine alone.

"I need a girl to love. Please. Please, I know you can do this."

I knew I was pathetic. But I felt no shame. Not anymore. I finally knew what I needed.

"That's all I ask. Just a girl. Robb's daughter will never love me, ever. Robb will take my son. Please, just give me a beautiful girl that will love me."

I started crying again. I envisioned a beautiful little girl that looked nothing like Robb. Nothing like Talisa either. Just me. A delicate little flower, worthy of Highgarden's roses. No, outshining any flower in Highgarden. I could feel her velvet skin on my finger tips. I could see her beautiful, little red lips. How her fingers would grasp mine.

My heart leapt for her.

Was my own love enough to make her real.

"I have spent my days here, praying for my happiness. For my salvation."

I was trying to make my voice sound clear again. I used my sleeve to wipe the tears out of my eyes.

"A baby girl. That's what I need."  
>I stood, grabbing the candle. I took a step closer to the statue, but I stopped short. There was a reverence that surrounded her. She was loved by so many. I had just been screaming at her stone face.<p>

"Thank you."

I muttered.

I knew I had to go back. I knew I at least had to try. I had to try and get him to lay with me. It would be hard. He never drank much wine. Maybe I could put milk of poppy in some and he would be too tired to deny me. Though that could back fire.

I let me feet guide me out of the tombs. But as I was leaving, I looked back at Lyanna Stark's grave. She would want her nephew to have an heir. She could help me. I could do this.

I would do this.

**Thoughts?**

**Should I expand?**


End file.
